SGA: When He Remembers
by Syl
Summary: The harder John tries to forget her, the more he remembers how much he loved her.


Summary: The harder John tries to forget her, the more he remembers how much he loved her.

Warnings/Rating: None/PG

Words: 837

Author's Notes: I've been reading SGA fanfic for about a year now and figured it was time to give it a try.

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM and 20th Century Fox; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Any and all critical feedback is appreciated.

Copyright: May 2010

When He Remembers

By Syl Francis

It's funny. When John thinks about her—and to be honest, he almost never does—or at least, he works damn hard not to ever do so while he's awake or barely conscious. No, when he thinks about her, he does so in his dreams, usually after a particularly bad mission, and only after he has been pumped full of drugs.

Truthfully, John has never really gotten over her. After all, she was his first real love. But after she left…well, that's the part he has worked hard to forget, along with the accompanying pain, tears, and angry accusations.

When he lies in the infirmary, too drugged up to know up or down, real or not—that's when remembers Nancy the way he first knew her...

He remembers working up the nerve to ask her out for a cup of coffee, and afterwards feeling surprisingly relaxed in her company. He recalls how her nose crinkled in that cute way of hers when she laughed, making him feel a little weak inside.

He remembers the Ferris wheel ride and their first kiss—how it felt like flying. He knew at that moment that he would ask her to marry him.

He recalls their wedding day and how he was rendered practically speechless when he saw her walking down the aisle. Holland, his best man, had to elbow him to remind him to say, "I do." As he fumbled with the wedding band, he barely managed to place it on her finger. He remembers uttering his vows in a very unmanly squeak.

He remembers his excitement at being assigned to a Black Ops team, and how he would get an immediate adrenaline rush when the phone rang in the middle of the night, calling him away on a classified deployment. Instantly awake, he would roll quietly out of bed so as not to disturb his new bride. Then he'd dress in the dark and softly kiss her goodbye.

He remembers how his beautiful, sexy wife would reach for him enticingly, almost causing him to miss his transport a couple of times. Of course, this resulted in some good-natured ribbing from his teammates.

He remembers how her face would light up when he came home after a particularly long deployment, her arms encircling his neck as he swept her up and carried her to their bedroom.

He almost didn't notice when Nancy stopped smiling, stopped reaching for him, and instead, started turning away from him. What he did notice were the increasingly long silences, punctuated by the late-night phone calls.

In all, when Dr. Keller has him pumped full of the "good stuff," and he has fallen into the deepest, darkest corner of his mind, only then does he allow himself to remember Nancy as he loved her, as he loves her still.

Because to remember her thus while awake would hurt too much and remind him again of the bitterness he saw when she opened her eyes in the hospital...

He remembers receiving word while on a covert mission in an undisclosed location in North Korea. Nancy had been admitted to the base hospital—a miscarriage. She had been eight weeks pregnant.

John vaguely recalls the forty-plus hours on military transports, changing over in Japan and Hawaii, and later in Los Angeles, where he boarded a nonstop to MacDill AFB in Florida. The whole trip remains blur, except the moment he walked into the hospital room.

With razor-sharp clarity, he remembers Nancy sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. Her lustrous, silky hair hung limp and uncombed, needing to be washed. Her vibrant, expressive eyes were dull and indifferent when she turned to him.

"I was going to tell you about the baby when you got back. I thought that with a baby, that maybe we could have a normal life—be a family. But that was stupid, wasn't it? You only love one thing, John—flying...It's funny, 'cause you always say, 'Leave no man behind.' But it isn't true, John. I needed you here, but you left me behind like you always do when that damn phone rings in the middle of the night. Only this time, you also left our baby behind…."

He held her as they cried together in mutual grief over the loss of their unborn child. Something died inside Nancy that day, permanently killing the light in her eyes. Their marriage was simply collateral damage.

When he remembers how it ended, he only blames himself. For how could he have expected her to understand that although he loved her with all his heart, flying is who he is. To give it up would be like dying inside.

He sincerely hopes that Greg…or Grant (whatever!) loves Nancy as she needs to be loved, as she deserves to be loved.

Of course, he's never stopped loving her. After all, she was his first. And when he thinks of her, he remembers her as he first knew her…

The End


End file.
